


The Labyrinth of Illusions

by Boogum



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Adventure, Awkward Romance, F/M, Friendship, Humor, Silly Situations, Zutara meets Labyrinth meets Alice in Wonderland, some drama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-23
Updated: 2018-10-23
Packaged: 2019-08-06 09:50:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16385711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Boogum/pseuds/Boogum
Summary: Zuko was sure that he was dreaming. It didn't matter that he had already pinched his arm (and, yes, it had hurt) or that he felt as awake as a bat-cat on a full moon. What mattered was that this was not his bedroom and there seemed to be no exit. Just endless, endless mist and rock. Oh, and he was trapped with the waterbender.





	1. In Which Zuko Has a Problem

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written as a gift for my homegirl Advocaat for the 2013 Zutara Secret Santa on LJ. I decided to incorporate three of her prompts; however, to keep an element of surprise, I'm not going to reveal which ones until the end. *evil cackle*

Zuko was sure that he was dreaming. It didn't matter that he had already pinched his arm (and, yes, it had hurt), or that he felt as awake as a bat-cat on a full moon. No, what mattered was that he was supposed to be in his bed in the Fire Nation palace, and since the last time he checked his bedroom did not look like a cave shrouded in white mist, he could only assume that this was all some kind of crazy dream from which he couldn't escape. Or he had somehow sleepwalked to a nearby cavern and then woken up (only he'd never sleepwalked in his life, and he was sure that even his sleepwalking self would have been intelligent enough to put on shoes and a shirt). Whatever. The point was that this was not his bedroom and there seemed to be no exit. Just endless, endless mist and rock.

Oh, and he couldn't firebend.

He frowned and held his hand at eye level, concentrating on his breathing to create a small ball of flames in the centre of his palm. And concentrated. And concentrated.

A frustrated sound escaped his lips, and he dropped his hand back to his side. "Still not working," he muttered. "What kind of stupid dream is this?"

There was a high-pitched scream and then something heavy crashed into him from above, knocking him to the ground and making all the breath vanish from his lungs. He groaned in pain, conscious of the bruises already forming in throbbing spots all over his body. He felt like he'd been hit with one of his father's stone statues, only the thing that had tried to kill him didn't feel so hard now. More warm and soft, and was that a hint of soap he smelt?

He groaned again and propped himself up on his elbows to look at the 'thing' still sprawled on his lap. The thing that had dark, flowing hair and unmistakable curves that brushed against him as it—she—pushed herself into a sitting position, spreading her hands on his bare chest. He inhaled a sharp breath, and then the veil of brown fell away from her face and he was confronted with a pair of big blue eyes.

Very angry blue eyes.

"You!" she exclaimed with loathing, and swept her arm back in a motion that should have summoned her water to attack him. Except nothing happened. She tried it again and then stared at her hand, fingers trembling slightly. "My bending." Her gazed fixed on him. "What have you done to my bending, you—"

Suddenly, she was hitting at every inch of him she could reach (which was a lot since she was still straddling his hips). Zuko grunted and tried to wriggle out from underneath her, or at least get enough leverage to push her off, but she just followed his movement and kept on hitting and grabbing and putting her hands all over him, her body pressing and sliding up against his, and—

Oh, spirits, he really did not need her to put her thigh right _there_.

Panicking, he grabbed her wrists and used all of his weight to roll them over, pinning her against the ground with his body. "Enough!" he growled, trapping her hands above her head with the grip he still had on her wrists.

Katara glared at him, breathing heavily. They were so close now that their noses were almost touching, and he could feel her breasts brushing against his bare chest with every breath she took. This did not help his growing predicament—especially when she started squirming underneath him and bucking her hips in an attempt to throw him off, creating all sorts of sensations in the lower part of his anatomy.

Zuko closed his eyes, cursing the fact he was male and tired, and his body just had to choose this moment to get aroused by some stupid waterbending girl who didn't know how to keep her hands—or thighs, for that matter—to herself. "Stop moving," he gritted out between clenched teeth.

"Get off me!" she shrieked, ignoring his request and squirming even more.

Zuko winced. "Trust me, I would love to, but then you'll just attack me again."

"You deserve it! After everything you did in Ba Sing Se, you double-crossing—" Her eyes suddenly widened. "Is that ..." She glanced down at where their hips were pressed against each other and then stared back at him in a mixture of surprise and distaste. "Please tell me that's a knife I can feel."

Zuko's cheeks burned, spreading all the way to the tips of his ears and even down his neck in a flush of heat.

"Ugh, that's disgusting!" Katara exclaimed, going pink in the face and pushing him off her, taking advantage of his loosened grip. "I can't believe you got turned on by that, you—"

"It's not like I can help it!" Zuko placed his hands over his lap to hide his, ahem, problem. "You were the one who kept throwing yourself all over me like some shameless harlot."

"Harlot?" Her blush darkened. "Why you—I wasn't even—ugh! I was not throwing myself all over you. I was trying to _attack_ you. There is a big difference, Zuko." She folded her arms under her breasts. "But I guess, being the horrible person that you are, you wouldn't understand that. No doubt you always get your kicks that way. It makes me wonder why you really tied me to that tree."

Now it was his turn to blush. Again. "I have never—how could you even think that I—" He made a frustrated sound and covered his face with his hands, hiding the red stain of his embarrassment. "Just shut up!"

Katara made a choked noise. He raised his head to glare at her, only to realise she was staring at his lap. He swore under his breath and promptly put his hands back to cover the tent he was pitching in his pants, cursing his subconscious and every spirit he knew for putting him in this mortifying situation. Of all the females in the world, why did it have to be her?

"Just let me wake up already!" he groaned, staring up at the cavern roof as if some otherworldly figure might suddenly emerge to grant his wish.

He did not like this dream. He did not like the fact that the damned waterbender was in his dream. And he really did not like the fact that he was currently feeling very stiff and uncomfortable and could do nothing about it since the stupid girl was standing right there and staring at him as if he were some lecherous creep for daring to get an erection. As if he actually had a choice in the matter.

Katara's expression became a little mulish. She started tapping her foot in a manner that suggested she was trying hard not to respond to his comment but her know-it-all nature was getting the better of her. Finally, she cracked. "What are you talking about?" she snapped. "I hate to break it to you, Zuko, but this isn't a dream."

Zuko rolled his eyes. "Of course it is. That's why I'm trapped in this stupid cave instead of sleeping in my bed where I'm supposed to be, and why I can't firebend. I don't know why you're here, but I guess my subconscious just wants to punish me today." A moody expression crossed his face and he threw a loose pebble at the wall. "Like I haven't suffered enough already."

She took a step forward. "Wait, you can't bend either?"

He sighed in exasperation, wondering if she had always been this dim-witted. "Didn't I just say that?"

She didn't seem to hear his remark, which made him wonder why he even bothered responding to this figment of his imagination who only seemed to exist to torment him. He glowered at the wall and muttered under his breath about how the spirits clearly hated him, and how he wished they would just put him out of his misery already, because this was getting to be too much. The Avatar's waterbender? Really?

"Shut up for a second," Katara said impatiently. "I think I know where we are."

Zuko closed his mouth, but his expression was one of disbelief.

"I think"—she cast her eyes about her in a mixture of fear and wonder—"I think we're in the Spirit World."

He raised his eyebrow. "Right. Somehow, I was magically transported from my bed in the palace to the Spirit World, and you just happen to be here as well. That makes so much sense."

"Makes more sense than your dream theory," she retorted, raising her chin. "Idiot."

"She's right, you know."

Zuko flinched at the sound of the new voice and scrambled into a bending stance … only to remember that he couldn't bend. Somehow, it wasn't much of a comfort when he saw that Katara had done the same, or when he saw the owner of the voice materialise from the mist, clutching a pitchfork in one hand. His eyes widened and for a moment he just stood there staring at the newcomer and trying to make sense of what he was seeing. Apparently, Katara was having the same problem.

"Who are you?" she asked, tilting her head to the side as if that would somehow give her a better perspective.

_What are you_ was the question Zuko had wanted to ask. The creature had the body of what he assumed was a dragon (he'd never actually seen one except in pictures), though its back feet were shaped like hooves. Its face was an odd mixture of lizard and some kind of snout thing with sharp teeth. It also had giant antlers sticking out from its scaly head. In short, it was hideous and probably would have been terrifying if it wasn't the same size as that arrow-headed nuisance Zuko had been trying to capture for three years, even with it standing upright on two feet.

The creature puffed out its chest proudly and began to speak in a loud voice. "I am the mist that leads men astray, the walls that appear in your path to block your way. I am what you wish to see and what you fear the most." He spread his arms in a grand gesture. "I am the great spirit of illusions, the legendary dragon-moose! I am Cuojue Bili-Shi-Jing! He shrugged and gave a toothy smile. "Though my friends just call me Bill."

"Um … okay, Bill," Katara said slowly. "That's great, but why am I here? This is the Spirit World, isn't it?"

Bill nodded. "Indeed it is, Missy. This is my home." He gave one of the rocks near him a fond pat. "Do you like it? I decorated it myself."

Zuko resisted the urge to facepalm. "Sure. The mist really adds to the charm. Now are you going to tell us why you brought us here or not?" His eyes narrowed. "I'm assuming it was you who brought us here."

Bill's mouth curved into a sly smile. "Oh, you assume correctly. As for why I brought you here, I was bored."

Katara's jaw dropped. "Bored?'

"Yes, bored. It's been a while since I've tormented humans, and you two seemed perfect for my little game." He cackled and got a faraway look in his eyes, as if he were seeing beyond the cave and mist to something that truly delighted him. "Yes, this is going to be great entertainment."

Katara opened and closed her mouth a few times, flailing for words. "But, but—you just can't do that!"

"Uh, yes I can. I'm an all-powerful spirit and you are just mere mortals." He pointed his pitchfork at her, nearly poking her in the stomach. "Unless you disagree?"

Her eyes widened and she took an involuntary step back to avoid the pointy tips that threatened to turn her into skewered waterbender.

"Well?" Bill taunted.

Katara opened her mouth to respond, but it was Zuko who spoke.

"Why us?" he demanded, folding his arms across his chest. "There are plenty of other humans out there, so why not pick two of them?"

"Because that wouldn't be half as fun," Bill answered, as if that were obvious. He lowered his pitchfork and leaned on it like a staff. "You have to understand that there are a lot of things I have to consider when choosing contestants for my game. I admit it's amusing to pick earthbenders because they get so frustrated when they realise they can't break down my walls, but hey, you've seen a full-grown man wave his arms and scream at a wall to fall once, you've seen it a thousand times. I thought it was time for a change."

Zuko raised his eyebrow. "That still doesn't answer my question."

Bill flashed another of his toothy smiles. "Let's just say I've had my eye on the two of you for a while now."

Zuko wasn't sure he liked the sound of that. He glanced at Katara, who looked just as worried, but when their eyes met her expression twisted as if she'd just bit into a lemon and she looked the other way. No doubt she had just realised she was having a non-antagonistic moment with him. Wonderful. If he was truly going to be stuck with the waterbender for whatever "game" the crazy dragon-moose had cooked up for them, it looked as if they were off to a great start. First, she'd attacked him, then she'd got him all hot and bothered with her grabby hands and wandering thighs (thankfully, that had passed), and now she was treating him as if he were the dirt under her boot.

Apparently, the dragon-moose was right. This wasn't a dream. This was a nightmare.

"Look, I don't have time for your games!" Zuko snapped. "Just tell me what I have to do so I can get out of here."

"Oh, that's quite a simple matter," Bill said in a genial tone. "You just have to make it through my labyrinth of illusions. If you escape, you can go home, but if you can't find the exit in time, well"—his teeth flashed in a row of silver spikes—"I'm afraid you'll be lost in there forever."

"What do you mean 'lost in there forever'?" Zuko demanded.

Bill paused and scratched his chin with a clawed finger. "Well, at least until you die and your body rots away to bones. Then your spirit will be trapped in their forever." He shrugged. "Same thing, really. I suggest you just focus on getting out before the last sand in the hourglass falls."

"Wait, what hourglass?" Katara exclaimed, looking around the cavern in panic.

"This one," Bill said, clicking his fingers—er, claws—and making a giant hourglass filled with red sand appear. "Oh, it looks like the sand is already falling. You'd better hurry. You've only got forty-eight hours."

Zuko clenched his hands into fists. "That's it! I've had enough! You just can't—"

But whatever he was going to say was never heard. The dragon-moose simply clicked his claws again to make a part of the wall open, and then he swung his pitchfork round in a sweeping arc, cackling like some evil villain from a puppet show all the while. Zuko yelped as he suddenly found himself being pushed from behind by an invisible force, knocking him off his feet and sending him flying through the opening into a swirl of purple light and mist. A second yelp told him that he wasn't alone.

He closed his eyes, trying to ignore the rushing in his ears and the way his stomach kept plummeting and rising, as if it were trying to leap right out of his body. He'd fallen from great heights a few times now, but this was different. This was like he was going forwards rather than downwards, and his body felt like it was being squeezed and compressed, then stretched back out again, then squeezed, then stretched, and on and on it went. It was horrible, and just when he thought the falling—if you could even call it that—would never stop, the mist cleared and his back struck the ground with a thump. A second later Katara landed on top of him, once more knocking all the breath from his lungs.

Zuko groaned, still too winded to move, and wondered when it was that he had become the waterbender's personal fall breaker. Then his stomach started twisting and churning again, and some of the colour drained from his cheeks. He was not going to be sick. He was not going to be sick. He was not—

"I think I'm going to be sick," he gasped, and managed to sit up just enough to turn his face to the side before he vomited up what looked like the little he had managed to consume of his dinner.

"Gross, you got some on my skirt," Katara complained, scrambling away from him and scrunching her nose in distaste.

"I never asked you to fall on me," Zuko muttered, wiping a smudge of sick from his chin.

"As if I actually wanted to," she retorted. "You think I like being here with you after what you did, let alone touch you?"

_Here we go_ , he thought, placing his head in his hands.

"You said you had changed! You said all those things to make me trust you, and then you just turned around and threw it all in my face, and then Aang—" Her voice got choked up, but then she paused. "Hey, are you even listening to me?"

Zuko didn't budge until she nudged him none too gently with her foot. Then he just stared at her flatly, as if to ask what the heck she wanted. His stomach was still churning and his mouth tasted like vomit. He was in no mood to listen to her lectures or to grovel at her feet for forgiveness.

"Wow, you look really pale," she observed. "I didn't realise you had such a weak stomach. How did you survive on a boat all those years?"

"It's not that," he said without thinking, and then clamped his mouth shut.

He was not going to open up to this girl about his life again. She didn't need to know that he was still struggling to get used to all the rich food at the palace (let alone eat); that sometimes he felt like a stranger in his own home, because it had been so long and everything should have been the same, but it was like someone had come along and moved all the things he loved, leaving this unsettling image of familiarity and wrongness. She didn't need to know about his guilt, or the fact he hadn't slept properly in weeks. She didn't need to know anything, so he was not going to say anything.

Katara stared at him with a crease on her brow. He could almost see the confliction going on inside that stubborn little head of hers. Her natural instinct was to help—she'd shown him that much in Ba Sing Se and when Azula had injured his uncle—but he had also sided with his sister during the fight in the catacombs, which had promptly put him back at Hated Enemy status. It was no wonder Katara didn't know how to respond to him being ill now, but then, as he continued to say nothing, her expression soured and just like that any trace of compassion was gone. It seemed hate had won.

"Well, whatever," she said dismissively. "I don't care what you do. Just stay away from me."

Zuko didn't feel this statement warranted a response. Instead, he got to his feet and slowly turned on the spot to examine his surroundings. Not that there was much to see. There was a giant stone wall in front of him, a giant stone wall behind him, and though he could see a path to his left and right, both seemed to lead to nothing but more stone and mist. They were in a labyrinth, alright, and it looked as if it was not going to be an easy task to find the exit. He raised his gaze skyward and saw the hourglass hovering high in the air like some glowing sun, counting down the seconds with each blood-red piece of sand that fell.

His eyes narrowed. He was not going to be trapped here.

Zuko turned back to face Katara, only to pause when he saw her heading down the path to the right. "Where are you going?"

"I'm getting out of this maze," she announced, continuing to march ahead.

Zuko easily caught up to her. "I don't think we should separate."

"And I really don't care."

He gritted his teeth. "Look, I know you don't trust or even like me. I get that. But we're stuck here together and—"

Katara swung around to face him. "What part of 'stay away from me' do you not understand?"

Zuko closed his mouth, biting back the angry retort that flew to his lips. "I'm just trying to be practical," he said with forced patience. "We'll have a better chance getting out of here together than we would alone."

Which wasn't true at all. He was certain that he had a good chance making it out of the labyrinth himself, but he didn't know if she would have half as much luck without her bending. The last thing he needed was another life on his conscience.

Katara's eyes flashed and she got right up in his face. "And I'm telling you that I would rather be trapped in this place forever than spend another minute in your company, so go find another path to take and leave me"—she shoved him hard in the chest—"alone!"

Zuko stumbled back a few steps, caught off guard, but Katara didn't wait for his response. She just raised her chin and stomped down the path, not even giving him a second glance. His mouth twisted into a frown, but this time he did not follow. If she wanted to be stubborn and go off alone, that was her choice. He'd only tried to help because—

_"Maybe you could be free of it … I have healing powers."_

Zuko shook his head as if to shake off the memories. Best not to think about what had happened in Ba Sing Se. He needed to focus on getting out of the maze.

"Fine," he muttered, turning the other way. "If she wants to take the path on the right, then I'll take the one on the left."

But as he started making his way through the maze, he still couldn't help but worry. Katara might be a master waterbender and pack quite a punch when she wanted, but she did not have his training in stealth and non-bending fighting. He wondered if she would really be okay. He wondered if he was going to be okay.

"Something about this place," he mumbled, gazing warily at the mist that crept around him in tendrils of translucent white.

If he had his bending, he could just create a fire to give him more light, but it seemed he would just have to make do with limited vision. Not a problem; he'd done this plenty of times as the Blue Spirit.

"I can do this," Zuko told himself. "I _will_ do this."

Because he was not about to let a dragon-moose named Bill get the better of him. If there was thing about Zuko that would never change, it was that he never gave up. Not when he had been forced to spend years searching for the Avatar, and certainly not now.

He would make it out of this maze.


	2. In Which Katara Attends a Tea Party

Katara was lost. Her heart pounded as she stopped in the middle of the corridor, glancing around at the image of her own frightened face, which was reflected back at her from a hundred different angles. She'd already run into several dead ends and almost got impaled on a trap of spikes, but this latest setback was by far the worst. At some point the mist had got so thick that she had been unable to see anything. When she had broken free of the blinding substance, she'd found herself in this twisting path of mirrors.

"Keep it together," she muttered. "There has to be a way out around here somewhere."

It didn't matter if every corridor looked the same or that she no longer knew from where she had come; she could not let herself get trapped in this place.

_"We'll have a better chance getting out of here together than we would alone."_

She made a scornful sound and kept walking. As if she would ever trust, let alone cooperate with, that double-crossing jerk again. She would never forgive him for betraying her in Ba Sing Se. Never.

_"I'm sorry. That's something we have in common."_

"Shut up!" Katara yelled, clenching her hands into fists.

A part of her was aware that she probably looked half insane right now, shrieking at what appeared to be her own reflection. Not that she cared. She was tired and scared and she really, really did not want to think about Zuko. He was just a stupid, opportunistic prince who didn't give two hoots about anyone but himself. It would not do to think about how vulnerable and subdued he had looked back in the catacombs; how he had looked even worse when she had seen him just before. She had not been blind to the dark shadows that stood out like bruises under his unscarred eye, nor the gauntness of his face. Even his body (which was rather nice and muscled, as an unbiased part of her had noticed thanks to his shirtless state) had seemed much leaner than she remembered.

But none of that mattered, because he was a horrible person and she was not going to let herself feel sorry for him again.

"So there!" she announced to no one in particular.

"My, my, you do like to make a lot of noise."

Katara's heart-rate spiked and she spun around to find the person who had spoken; however, all she saw was her own face staring back at her. Some of the reflections were warped and gave her a monstrous appearance, while others were unnaturally large or too small. The girl in the mirrors breathed hard and gazed about with frantic eyes, her hands balled into fists.

"Show yourself!" Katara ordered, sounding much braver than she felt.

"I'm right here."

She jumped in fright, almost stumbling backwards. The voice had come from directly in front of her, but all she saw was just another reflection. Her breathing quickened and she took another step back.

"What—what's going on?" she demanded, feeling her stomach flutter in panic. "Why can't I see you? Are you some kind of spirit?"

"You could say that," the voice allowed, giving a small chuckle. "As for why you can't see me, you just need to open your eyes and look. Honestly, it's not that hard."

Her eyes narrowed. "I _am_ looking," she retorted, not liking the voice's tone. "I don't see anything but my own face."

"Silly human girl. You only see what you think you should be seeing. Open your eyes and _look_."

Katara pursed her lips. She was really beginning to dislike this disembodied voice. However, he—for it sounded like a he—seemed to genuinely believe she could see him if she wanted, which did give her pause. The mirrors seemed solid enough, but what if …

_"You just have to make it through my labyrinth of illusions."_

"That's it!" she exclaimed. "This is all just an illusion!"

As soon as she said the words, the mirrors shattered in an explosion of glass. She cried out in alarm and covered her head with her arms, but the shards did not cut into her as she feared; they simply turned back into mist, curling in translucent tendrils of white around her and then faded to nothing, leaving her standing once more on a path surrounded by stone walls. She blinked a few times and then carefully lowered her arms.

"I did it," she murmured, and then it sunk in that she had at last escaped the maze of mirrors and a huge grin curved her mouth. "I actually did it!"

"Well, don't just stand there congratulating yourself," the voice responded. "You've still got a long way to go, and it's not like you managed to swallow a hippolephant in one bite. Now that would be an achievement."

Katara's grin faltered and she turned to confront her tormenter, determined to see the owner of the snide little voice now that she had broken the illusion. Only there was nothing there.

"Down here," the voice prompted.

She lowered her gaze and found herself staring at a—

"Caterpillar?" she said, scrunching her nose.

The caterpillar's bushy eyebrows furrowed. "That's _the_ caterpillar to you, girl." He sniffed haughtily. "Honestly, I don't know why I bother. Humans are so obtuse."

Katara had the grace to blush. "I'm sorry if I sounded rude. You just took me by surprise, but I really am grateful. I don't think I would have ever escaped those mirrors if you hadn't come to help me."

"Who said I was helping you?" the caterpillar retorted, raising one eyebrow. "I was just trying to enjoy a nice cup of tea with some friends, but you made that very difficult with all of your shouting and stomping around. I knew we'd never get any peace unless I got rid of you."

She pursed her lips. "You know, you could at least try to be polite."

"Why should I? All you humans ever do is scream and stomp all over my home." He shook his fuzzy head. "No manners at all."

Her eyes widened. "Wait, you mean you live in this labyrinth?"

"Obviously."

"Then could you show me the way out?" she asked in a rush.

He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. "Bill wouldn't like that. He might raise my rent again."

"But you just helped me before."

"That was different." The caterpillar averted his face. "You were ruining my tea party."

She folded her arms under breasts. "Look, I'm going to be trapped in this labyrinth forever unless I can find the way out before the last sands of that hourglass fall," she said, pointing to the timer glowing up in the sky. "I promise you now that if I get stuck in here because you didn't help me, I'm going to haunt you for the rest of my life and ruin every single tea party you have from this day forth!"

For a moment they just glared at each other, and then the caterpillar let out a sigh. "Fine, I shall give you some assistance, but I want to finish my tea party first." He gave another haughty sniff. "It's a special occasion, and I'm not having that ruined because of some silly human girl."

"Fine," Katara agreed. Anything to get out of this labyrinth.

Without another word, the caterpillar shuffled along on his fuzzy green body towards a wall that seemed to be a dead end. He paused when he was close enough to touch the mossy surface. "Well," he said, glancing back at her. "Are you coming?"

"Uh, that's a wall."

The caterpillar rolled his eyes and then passed right through the stone. Katara blinked, once, twice, and then just stared at the spot where she'd last seen her grumpy companion. He'd vanished. Poof! Just like that. Now it was true that she could do a lot of things that others might consider miraculous, but walk through walls was beyond her expertise. Unless—

Inhaling a deep breath, she walked forward and stopped in front of the wall, reaching out her hand to run her fingers along the stone … and watched them slip through the image as if it were air.

"Another illusion, huh?"

She smiled and took a step forward, and then she disappeared.

oOo

The mist was getting thicker. Zuko placed his hand against the wall on his left, letting the moss-covered stone guide his path so that he would not miss any forks in the road or unwittingly step into a trap. He had been walking for hours, conscious of every speck of sand that fell in the hourglass above him, but so far nothing had happened to give him much alarm. In fact, he was beginning to think that the only real challenge of the labyrinth was indeed to find the exit. He'd seen a few obvious traps that had been easy to avoid, and while the mist and the feeling of being watched was a little unnerving, it was nothing he couldn't handle.

"Don't know why I was so worried," he muttered.

Still, if he couldn't find the correct path it wouldn't matter how simple the maze was to navigate, he'd be stuck with no hope of escape. He wondered if Katara was doing any better.

Suddenly, the mist got so thick that he could no longer see the outline of his hand. He frowned and slowed his pace, relying on the feeling of the mossy stone to keep him from getting turned around. The farther he walked, the thicker the tendrils of white got, brushing against his bare skin like cold snakes and clinging to him as if to hold him back. It was a horrible feeling, and the thought that the mist might actually be alive teased his mind. It was something he had wondered earlier, but now he couldn't shake the idea. The mist just felt so invasive, so conscious, as if it were probing him for something it wanted.

Zuko shook his head. "Get a grip. It's just mist."

Mist that was finally beginning to clear. He sighed in relief, only to pause when he saw the two doors set into the wall of what would have been a dead end. On each door was carved a stone head: the one on the left had a drooping moustache and a permanent scowl; the one on the right was identical except it couldn't seem to stop smiling. Oddly, they kind of reminded him of his grandfather Azulon.

"Well, do you plan on standing there all night?" the head on the left snapped. "Hurry up and choose."

Zuko blinked. "Excuse me?"

The head on the right cracked an even broader grin. "One of these doors will take you closer to the exit. The other leads to certain death. Obviously, mine is the correct door to choose."

"Nonsense!" the left retorted. "Everyone knows it's my door that leads to the exit and yours that leads to certain death."

The head on the right made a sad sound. "I do wish you would stop telling these lies, Pagus. It doesn't do you any good."

"What?" Pagus spluttered, stone eyes bulging. "The only liar here is you, Magus! You wouldn't know the truth if it danced naked on your fat, stony face!"

"There you go again," Magus sighed, and then glanced at Zuko. "Don't listen to him. He's a compulsive liar. Makes up stories all the time. You would be wise to choose my door."

"Oh, yeah?" Pagus growled. "Come over here and say that to my face, blockhead! I'll give you the old one-two with my fist and then we'll see who's the real liar!"

Zuko frowned. "But you don't have any hands. You're just a head attached to a door."

It seemed a reasonable thing to point out, but it had quite the effect on Pagus. His droopy moustache blew this way and that as he blustered on and on about how rude humans were, and that he might be a stone head on a door, but he could still give a walloping to anyone who dared to disrespect him.

"You feel that?" Pagus shrieked, puffing out his cheeks and squinting in a manic-looking glare at Zuko. "That's my fist hitting you in your stupid human head! Take that! And that! And—"

"Yeah, I don't feel anything," Zuko said flatly.

Magus just sighed. "Please don't judge us doors by his behaviour. Pagus was adopted."

"ADOPTED? YOU KNOW DAMN WELL WE'RE TWINS, YOU LYING, LITTLE BAST—"

"Enough!" Zuko exclaimed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his forefinger and thumb. "Just shut up the both of you!"

Pagus and Magus both fell silent, though it could hardly be said that Pagus looked pleased to have had his tirade cut short. Not that he ever looked happy; that seemed to be Magus's job. The head on the right was grinning so widely it looked as if his face might crack.

"So, all I have to do is choose a door?" Zuko asked, glancing from one head to the next.

"That's it," Magus confirmed. "Of course, you could go back the way you came and try to find another path, but this is the fastest route to the exit."

Pagus gave a creaky laugh. "Now that is something we can agree on. Of course, he won't be going anywhere if he chooses the wrong door."

A crease formed on Zuko's brow. There was a fifty-fifty chance that he could pick the correct door and be set on the quickest path to the exit. Of course, there was also a fifty-fifty chance that he would pick the door to certain death. He glanced up at the hourglass and saw that the sand collecting at the bottom was already over a quarter full. That meant at least twelve hours had passed since he had entered the maze, which wouldn't have been a big deal if he knew the size of the labyrinth. Unfortunately, he had no idea how much progress he had made in those hours, which also meant that he couldn't discern if he would have enough time to find the exit if he turned back now and tried to find a new path. Either way it was a risk.

Zuko stared at the stone heads, taking in their respective scowl and smile. They were identical yet opposites in nature. Each claimed the other lied about their door being the correct one, which meant that one of them had to be lying; he just had to figure out which one. On the surface, the obvious door to pick to enter was Magus. He smiled lots, was polite and helpful, and he appeared to actually care about Zuko's well-being. On the other hand, Pagus was grumpy, unhelpful, and didn't seem to care at all whether Zuko lived or died.

"I choose the door on the left," Zuko announced, pointing at Pagus.

For the first time, Magus's smile faltered. "Are you sure you want to do that? There is no going back once you walk through that door."

"I'm sure," Zuko affirmed.

If there was one thing he had learnt from Azula, it was that liars tended to smile before they revealed their sharp teeth. It was also never a good idea to trust someone who freely offered information without waiting to be asked. It didn't matter if Magus seemed like the nicer door; Zuko's gut told him to go with Pagus.

The head on the left cackled. "Take that, you smug block of rock! My door got picked even with all your charm and smiles!"

Magus just sighed. "Such a shame."

And with that both heads seemed to lose the life that had animated them and the door to the left swung open. Zuko hesitated for a moment, wondering if he really had guessed correctly. Then again, he had not come this far by being too tentative to take risks. He stepped through the door, passing through a swirl of purple light. A sigh of relief escaped his lips as he found himself in some kind of room covered in murals (all painted with dragon-mooses that looked a lot like Bill wearing different hats) with a single door waiting on the other side.

"I guess I was right to go with Pa—ahhh!"

Zuko gasped as water gushed forth from the roof and walls, flowing with the force of a tsunami and filling the room with liquid in a way that had CERTAIN DEATH imprinted all over it. Apparently, he had been wrong. He had to get out of this room, but when he turned around to go back through the door, he found nothing but solid wall. The door was gone, and the water was now up to his waist, his chin, above his head. Spirits, the room was so small that he would soon be trapped underwater with no way to breathe.

He swam to the opposite side of the room and checked the door he had seen earlier, but there was no latch or seemed to be anyway to open the damn thing. Frustrated, he started tracing his fingers along the wall for any sign of a catch or some way to help him escape. When that elicited no results, he dove under the water and scanned the floor. The longer he searched, the more his mind screamed with panic. This was not good. This was really, really not good.

His lungs began to protest. Zuko swam back to the surface and took in a gulp of air, practically pressed up against the roof. Water got in his mouth and up his nostrils. He was running out of time.

"Come on!" he growled. "There has to be something!"

But the water just kept on coming, and he couldn't breathe, and—

Zuko stopped struggling, distracted by the feathery touch of his hair against his cheek. His _dry_ hair. Now that he thought about it, he didn't feel damp at all. Even his pyjama pants felt dry to touch.

"Wait a minute," he said aloud. "Is this water even real?"

Just like that the liquid was gone and he found himself sprawled on all fours. He inhaled precious oxygen and flopped onto his back, taking a moment to catch his breath and let his nerves calm. That had been unnerving to say the least.

A crease formed on his brow. "So, did I pick the right door or not?"

Had he somehow avoided the trap for Certain Death or was this simply another part of the labyrinth and he was now on the quickest path to the exit? Zuko couldn't know for certain, but he did know that he couldn't stay in this room any longer. Sighing, he got to his feet and headed for the door with no latch. Maybe he could figure out a way to open it now that there wasn't any nonexistent water choking his lungs.

He reached out to touch the smooth wood, but the door swung open before his fingers could even make contact. That had been easy. Perhaps the water had just been some kind of test and, by passing it, whatever charm had been keeping the door locked had been released.

"Whatever," Zuko muttered, and stepped into the light.

Once again, he found himself on a path surrounded by ridiculously high walls. Great. He was getting really sick of stone and moss. And he was getting hungry, and tired, and—

"Enough," he scolded himself. "Just keep walking."

There would be time to tend to his ailments later. For now, he just had to focus on getting the heck out of this place.

Zuko squared his shoulders and continued walking at a fast pace, thinking only of putting one foot in front of the other. That was when he heard the scream. He paused, raising his head to listen, his heart beating fast. That had sounded like—

"Katara!" he exclaimed, and started to run.

He didn't even need to consider the option. The moment he had heard her scream his only thought was to find her. His heart raced and raced, making the blood pound in his ears and urging him to run faster. Walls and twisting paths flashed past his vision, but he did not allow himself to get distracted. Her cries were getting louder now, which meant he could only be getting closer.

"Katara!" he shouted, casting his gaze this way and that. "Where are you? Katara!"

"I'm down here."

Zuko skidded to a halt, turning towards the sound of the pitiful voice. Then he saw the hole where a trapdoor had opened in the footpath. "Katara?" he questioned in a softer tone, moving towards the gap in the stone.

"That is my naaame," she said, dragging out the word so that the M seemed to pop, and then giggled. Which promptly turned into a shriek. "Oh, hurry up. I don't know how much longer I can hold on."

Zuko furrowed his brow. Had she ... had she just giggled? She gave another panicked gasp, and he quickly shrugged off the matter, deciding he could worry about her odd behaviour later. He soon discovered her dilemma when he looked down the hole and saw her clinging to a thin ledge while her legs dangled over an abyss of black. He wasn't sure if the hole just kept on going and that was why he couldn't see the bottom or if it was some kind of portal to another part of the labyrinth, but he wasn't about to let her find out either.

"Hang on," he said, flattening himself on his stomach and extending his arm towards her. "I think I can reach you."

Katara stared up at him through hazy blue eyes. "Oh, great, it's you!" she complained. "Why does it always have to be you?"

Zuko ignored this remark and simply ordered her to grab his hand.

"Why should I trust you?" she responded a little petulantly. "You'll probably drop me."

"Listen to me, Katara," he said with forced patience. "I'm not going to let you fall, but if you keep refusing my help you just might succeed in doing that all on your own. Now give me your hand."

She glanced past her shoulder at the endless chasm below her, then stared back up at his face. He didn't know why she was hesitating (did she really hate him that much?), but then a part of the rock crumbled away beneath her fingers and the decision was made for her. She let out a squeak of fright and lost her grip. For a second there was nothing keeping her secure, and her eyes widened as gravity kicked in and tugged her back towards the shadows. Then Zuko's fingers closed around her wrist and she juddered to a halt. They both exhaled in relief.

"Hold on," he ordered.

Carefully, he began to haul her up towards him, gripping the ledge with his free hand so as not to lose his balance and send them both tumbling into the chasm. That was the last thing he needed. Once she was closer, he shifted to his knees and wrapped his arm around her waist, then pulled her up the rest of the way with one quick motion. A gasp escaped her lips as they fell backwards from the momentum, though Zuko wasn't at all surprised when she ended up sprawled on his lap. It seemed to be a habit with her of late.

He assumed that she would simply get off him and so took a moment to catch his breath, content to just lie there and let the adrenaline fade. Instead, Katara leaned her elbows on his chest and stared at him through slightly unfocussed eyes. Their faces were so close he could count the different colours of blue that shaded her irises.

"I suppose you think that just because you saved me I'm supposed to forgive you now for all the terrible things you've done," she muttered, though her voice sounded a bit slurred. "Well, I won't. It's not like I really needed your help. I was doing just fine until you came along, all shirtless and—and Zukoish. And if you hadn't distracted me I'm sure I would have found a way to get out of that pit. I'm not some helpless female, you know!"

Zuko blinked. "Um, what?"

"And why are you dressed like this, anyway?" she continued as if he hadn't spoken, poking him in the ribs. "Don't they give you shirts at that fancy palace of yours or do you just like to prance around half-naked so you can dazzle all the girls with your pasty body?"

His cheeks warmed. "Uh—"

She leaned even closer, narrowing her eyes. "I bet this is all part of some evil plan of yours, isn't it?" She poked him in the chest again. "Well, I'm onto you, Prince Zuko. Here's one waterbender you won't ensnare with your tricks."

Zuko scrunched his nose. Her breath reeked of a bitter scent he'd come to associate with backwater taverns and his more unruly crew members back when he'd still had his ship and they had stopped at port to restock supplies. Suddenly, her slurred way of speaking and random giggles didn't seem so confusing.

"Wait a minute," he said, staring into her unfocussed blue eyes. "Are you drunk?"

Katara made a scoffing noise. "Please. I'm not sober. I'm perfectly drunk."

Zuko smacked his palm against his forehead. Just brilliant.

She tried to sit up but lost her balance and ended up rolling off him with an unsteady sway. Then she started giggling again. "Uh-oh. I can't get up."

"That's because you're drunk," Zuko said tiredly, sitting up and frowning at the girl sprawled on the ground beside him.

"No, no, no, no, no," she said, shaking her head and waggling her finger at him. "You've got it all wrong. All I've had to drink is some tea from the grumpy caterpillar."

"A caterpillar?" Zuko repeated, looking a bit sceptical.

She nodded. "Mhm. His friends were very strange. One of them had two heads and kept arguing with itself, and then—" She frowned and her eyes went even more unfocussed. "You know, I don't remember now. I'm sure the caterpillar was supposed to do something for me."

Zuko just sighed and placed his head in his hands. What was he supposed to do with this girl? He couldn't just leave her like this, but she would hardly be able to keep up with him in her state of intoxication either. A warm weight pressed against his side. He glanced down to see Katara leaning against him.

"Don't tell Zuko," she whispered, "but even though he's a double-crossing jerk, I think he's actually kind of cute."

"Um, Katara—"

She mashed her finger against his mouth. "Shhhhh. I said don't tell."

Zuko pulled his face back. "Alright, that's it." He slipped one arm under her knees and wrapped the other around her waist.

"Hey!" Katara cried, hitting him with her fists. "What are you doing? Let me go!"

Zuko ignored her protests and got to his feet, lifting her up as he did so that he was carrying her bridal-style. She continued to pummel her fists against his chest, but (thankfully) she wasn't putting much force behind the attack, and it wasn't long before she calmed down. Then she just glared at him.

"I hate you," she muttered.

"That's funny," he said, unable to resist teasing her a little, "because just before you were saying you thought I was kind of cute."

Two pink spots formed on her cheeks and she opened and closed her mouth a few times. "I still hate you!"

His mouth twitched into a smile, but he didn't say anything further and continued to carry her through the maze. She grumbled under her breath from time to time but otherwise was too drunk to put up much resistance. Not that he was exactly thrilled to be acting as the waterbender's palanquin. What he really needed was to find a safe place for them to rest so that she could sleep off the effects of the alcohol. He was too exhausted to carry her like this forever, and even if they were on a deadline, he didn't know how much longer he could keep going without taking a break himself.

Zuko shifted his grip on her legs and began searching in earnest for a suitable spot for them to rest. He rounded a corner and then paused when he saw a stone alcove situated between a fork in the path. It wasn't very large, but in that moment all Zuko cared about was that it would at least be some kind of shelter. He was tired, Katara was already a snoozing deadweight in his arms, and he really, really didn't want to keep walking.

He placed her on the ground inside the alcove and then settled down beside her, sighing as he let his head rest back against the stone. Katara made a sleepy noise and curled up against him, throwing one arm across his lap. Zuko froze, conscious of her fingers resting on the inside of his thigh, and carefully moved her arm so that it was resting back on her own body. Spirits, why couldn't this girl just keep her gropy hands to herself?

"I swear she's going to be the death of me," he muttered.

His gaze shifted to her profile, taking in her closed eyes and the way her chest rose and fell with each steady breath. His expression softened slightly and he couldn't help but reach out to brush some of the loose strands of hair away from her face. He supposed she wasn't so bad—at least when she wasn't hitting or screaming at him. Spirits knew how long that would last, though.

"You're going to have one heck of a hangover when you wake up," he observed not without sympathy.

Katara just made another sleepy sound and snuggled closer to him. Zuko sighed again and closed his eyes, resigning himself to being her human pillow. Better that than to accidentally wake her up and have to deal with her drunken ramblings and switchy behaviour.

He was asleep in seconds.


	3. In Which a Truce Is Made

Katara groaned and opened her eyes, then immediately winced in pain. Her head felt like a komodo rhino was having a merry old time stomping on her skull. Maybe she would just lie here for a bit. That was sure to help the wriggly, twisting feeling in her stomach, because she was pretty sure she would vomit if she moved. At least her pillow was semi-comfortable. The silky covering felt nice against her cheek, though the warmth emanating from it was a bit annoying. She would have preferred something cooler to help with the komodo rhino problem.

_Oh well, it's better than the ground._

She huddled into a ball and draped her arm over her face, trying to plump her pillow into a more comfortable position. But it didn't want to cooperate. In fact, the more she felt around, the more she realised that her pillow didn't feel much like a pillow at all. The surface was all uneven, and as she moved her hand up and along with blind fingers, the silky fabric ended and something equally smooth, but not as fabric-y, came into contact with her touch. It almost felt like—

Her eyes suddenly snapped open again and she stared in alarm at her hand, which was pressed against a toned, pale abdomen. Slowly, her gaze travelled higher, past ribs and sinewy muscle to the face that was half-shrouded in shaggy black hair. Oh.

_Oh._

Katara removed her hand as if burned. Unfortunately, that only made her aware of where her face was currently snuggled against, as if Zuko's lap was a nice, fluffy blanket. Even worse was the distinct wet patch she could feel mushed against her cheek and mouth. She'd been drooling in her sleep, and it was all on his pants. Oh, spirits, this was horrid! But at least he was still asleep. She'd just carefully extricate herself and then—

Zuko made a soft sound and shifted underneath her. She suddenly found herself staring into a pair of sleepy gold eyes. He blinked. She blushed. It was mortifying.

"Um, hi?" he said awkwardly.

Katara could have smacked her palm against her forehead. What kind of response was that? Didn't he care that she'd fallen asleep on him? And why had she been all snuggled up against him anyway? Her memories were frustratingly hazy, like she was staring at an unfinished jigsaw puzzle through a shroud of fog. There had been that path of mirrors, then she'd run into the grumpy caterpillar and had a tea party with him, and then—

"Oh, no," she moaned, sitting up and covering her face with her hands. It was too horrible, too embarrassing.

Piece by piece, the whole tragic story was falling into place. The trapdoor, the rescue, the terrible, terrible comments she'd made. Zuko was right; she'd definitely been drunk. That was the only explanation for why she'd sprawled herself all over him and told him she thought he was kind of cute. Because he wasn't. Not one bit.

Okay, fine. He wasn't ugly, but he was still a double-crossing jerk and right now she wished the ground would swallow her whole. This was so unfair!

"Hey," Zuko said, distracting her from her brooding thoughts. "Are you okay?"

"No," Katara responded in a muffled voice (she refused to raise her face from the sanctum of her hands). "I'm stuck in this maze, a caterpillar got me drunk, and I'm pretty sure I completely humiliated myself in front of you last night. What part of that sounds like I would be okay right now?"

"I wouldn't be too hard on yourself," he responded. "It's not like you meant to get drunk. Besides, I've seen worse."

That did make her lower her hands, and she stared at him through wide, slightly suspicious eyes. "Are you ... are you trying to comfort me?"

Zuko's unscarred cheek tinged with pink.

She groaned and hid her face back in her hands. "Ugh, I must look really pathetic if you're trying to cheer me up."

"Whatever," he muttered, if a little defensively. No doubt he'd noticed the underlying insult.

Katara just went back to brooding. She probably would have stayed that way as well had he not told her that they had to keep moving.

"Who said anything about 'we'?" Katara demanded, even as she grudgingly got to her feet.

Zuko gave her a blank stare that had "are we really going to do this again?" written all over it. Katara just huffed and folded her arms, holding her chin high. She did not want to cooperate with him. He was a scheming, double-crossing firebender. So what if he had rescued her from falling into that abyss. So what if he had carried her when she was too drunk to walk, and had even been nice enough to not tease her about all her silly ramblings. It didn't make a difference, because he was still a backstabbing jerk.

Gah. Even in her mind she didn't sound that convincing.

Zuko just shook his head in a despairing sort of way and started walking down the path to the right. She stood there for a moment, hands twitching into a half-fist and wondering if she should follow or take the path on the left, just to make a point. A defiant, stubborn part of her wanted to do just that to show that she hadn't forgiven him for his stunt in Ba Sing Se. However, her head was still throbbing from whatever the caterpillar had given her, and she had enough sense of self-preservation to realise that Zuko did have the upper-hand when it came to navigating this maze without bending. If he was willing to help, she would be stupid to turn down the offer a second time.

"Wait," Katara called in a resigned voice.

Zuko paused and looked back at her with his eyebrow slightly raised. She didn't need him to speak to know he was thinking something smug that probably went along the lines of her "finally seeing reason" or some such rot. Ugh, it made her want to swing right back around and go in the other direction, but Katara knew that would just make her look immature. She would swallow her pride this time, but that didn't mean she had to like it. Even if she did find the sight of his shirtless form a nice distraction from all the moss and stone that surrounded them.

Irritated at her own traitorous thoughts, Katara gritted her teeth and followed him with stompy little steps, glaring at his back as if there was a big red bulls eye right in the centre. Minutes passed, and she was still fuming. It was all his fault she was feeling so upside down and muddled, like dye swirled round and round until the colours were just a big cloudy mess. Stupid Zuko with his stupid niceness and—and stupidness! He was too distracting, strutting about all sexy ruffled morning hair and bare chest and—

Her foot connected with something sharp. She let out a yelp and found herself sprawled on the ground in an awkward heap. Groaning, she pushed herself into a sitting position and examined the tender spots on her legs and elbows, which she knew were going to blossom with bruises. A low chuckle told her that Zuko had seen the whole thing.

"I thought waterbenders were supposed to be graceful," he observed from somewhere above her. "I guess that dictum doesn't apply to ones suffering from a hangover."

Katara raised her head to make a waspish retort, only to pause as she was confronted with a warm, teasing smile that did odd things to her stomach. All those flutters and swoops were quite unnerving. It was like there was a whole circus act of airbenders performing inside her, reaching right up to her thumping, equally fluttery heart.

"Here," Zuko said, offering his hand.

Katara's cheeks warmed. "I'm fine," she muttered, making a point to get back to her feet without his assistance.

Rubbing her elbow, she stalked ahead without a further word, avoiding his gaze and feeling a little shaken. This was not good. Not good at all. Her heart was still thumping in her chest like a drum, tattooing whispers of emotion that she refused to accept. Lopsided smiles and shaggy bed hair were not going to be the downfall of her self-respect. She was a smart, independent female, and damn it she had standards! It was time to get a grip!

Katara nodded emphatically to herself as if to corroborate her resolution. It became much easier to ignore Zuko's presence after that (or, at least, the cute, unsettling parts of him). Instead, she focused on putting one foot in front of the other so she could get out of this maze (and far, far away from him); she focused on how she'd felt when he'd turned on her in the caves: the betrayal, the sick realisation that she had been taken in by his sob story just like she had with Jet, letting the prince's fingers curl around her heartstrings to tug and tug until she had almost wasted the Spirit Oasis water on him.

_"Maybe you could be free of it."_

Her gaze flickered involuntary to Zuko's face, staring at the scar that ravaged the left side of his otherwise handsome features. It was in that moment the mist came, swirling around them in thick gusts, as if a monstrous giant were breathing the foul stuff down on them to blind their vision. Fingers closed around her wrist.

"Don't move," she heard Zuko murmur.

Katara had to admit that, despite her misgivings and frustration towards the prince, she was glad for the physical contact. It kept her grounded—connected to him in a way that assured her neither of them were suddenly going to be carried off into some random mirror trap as had been her previous fate. Still, her heart thumped against her ribs in a very different manner now as fear coiled its way up her body, choking her throat. What would the maze throw at them this time?

Zuko's fingers suddenly tightened around her wrist, almost painfully. "Mum?" he whispered.

Katara blinked and looked around, but she couldn't see anything but thick fog obscuring her vision. Suddenly, Zuko's grip was gone and she felt him step away.

"Mum?" he said again, this time louder. "Is that ... is that really you?"

The longing in his voice made something in her heart ache. He sounded so much like a lost child, so much like that tired and exhausted boy she had been locked up with in the caves of Ba Sing Se. Zuko took a step forward, then another, and for the first time Katara was able to make out some kind of figure through the mist: a ghostly wraith wearing a cloak over a dress the colour of crimson. Her spine tingled and the fine hairs on her arms prickled in warning. Without even thinking, Katara reached out blindly and was relieved when she made contact with warm skin.

"Zuko, wait," she hissed, pulling him back. "Something isn't right."

He tried to shake himself free, but she just held on tighter.

"Let go," he ordered with a sort of frantic desperation. "I have to see! I have to know if it's really her!"

"Your mother is dead!" Katara retorted, yet her heart twisted in sympathy. If anyone could understand his pain, it was her. "You told me yourself, remember? Back in the caves. You said the Fire Nation took her away from you—that she's been gone for years." Her gaze met his through the waning mist, wanting him to believe, to see the truth. "That woman you're looking at isn't your mother, Zuko. She's gone."

"No." He shook his head and, with one ruthless tug, managed to break free of her grip. "No, I refuse to believe that. Mum!" He was running now, chasing the cloaked woman, who had started moving away from them. "Mum, please stop. Please talk to me!"

Katara cursed under her breath and sprinted after him, careful not to trip over any more loose rocks. The mist had faded enough that she could at least see Zuko's blurry form stumbling after the wraith-like figure, but it was still impossible to make out where they were going. She was running blind, and with every step she took the bad feeling that shivered up her spine got worse.

"Zuko, wait!" Katara yelled, getting frustrated now.

The prince didn't listen. He was too busy calling out to the woman, pleading with her to stop, to just hear him out.

"I know it was my fault you had to leave!" he cried, and Katara could hear the tears he was trying so hard to suppress in the hoarseness of his voice. "You sacrificed everything to save me, and—and maybe you regret that now. Maybe you wish you had just let Father kill me. I get it, and I'm sorry. I'm sorry I ruined everything!" His voice thickened and he slowed to a halt, hanging his head. "Just, please—please, don't go. Please, don't leave me again." A shuddering breath. "I need you."

The woman paused. Slowly, she removed her hood and turned to gaze at Zuko, so silent and expectant, as if she were waiting for him to do something. Mist curled around her and her cloak rippled in a non-existent wind, even as strands of dark hair blew softly across her face. She was beautiful. Beautiful and terrifying, with empty, amber eyes and skin so pale it was like marble.

Katara stopped a few feet away from the prince, chest rising and falling as she tried to catch her breath. Her gaze kept flickering from him to the woman, but she didn't know what to do now that they were all standing together. She felt paralysed, or maybe it was just seeing Zuko so vulnerable that made her hesitate. In that moment, it was like they were back in the cave all over again, staring at each other in sad wonder as they realised their kindred pain.

_"That's something we have in common."_

Zuko reached his hand towards the woman, achingly uncertain in his need to touch her. "Mum," he said in a small voice, taking a step closer. "I know it's you. I know you can hear me, so why are you keeping your distance? Don't you recognise me? It's me, your son Zuko." He took another step. "Please, just say something. Please, let me know you at least forgive me for what happened."

A faint smile curved the woman's lips, and she lifted her hand and beckoned to him with her finger. His eyes shined with hope and he took a step forward, following her summons as if in trance. The hairs on the back of Katara's neck stood on end.

"No, wait!" she cried.

Too late. The mist vanished, along with the woman, and Zuko let out a shocked little gasp as he stepped over the edge of a gaping hole and into nothing. Katara didn't think: she just ran, throwing herself forward and latching her arms around his middle. She grunted as she dug her heels into the ground and used all of her weight to pull back. There was a horrible moment where she thought they would both fall into the pit, but then gravity did its work and she and Zuko tumbled backwards away from the edge in a tangle of limbs.

For a moment neither of them moved. Katara breathed hard as she tried to catch her breath, conscious of the warm body pressed all up against her. His hair shielded his face, though she could feel damp splotches spreading on her skin from where his cheek brushed her neck. That was when she noticed the fine tremors travelling up and down his frame.

"Hey," she said softly, placing her hand on his shoulder.

He flinched at her touch, and when he raised his head she could see the tears glistening on his cheeks. A tiny string in her heart reached out to him in response, connecting her to this scarred, wounded boy with gossamer threads of understanding. Then Zuko seemed to realise what he was doing and he quickly scrubbed a hand across his face, wiping away the tell-tale droplets.

"Sorry," he muttered, getting off her and averting his face. "I don't know what came over me."

Katara shifted to a sitting position, biting her lip as she stared at his huddled form. "Zuko, you know that wasn't your mum, right? It was just an illusion."

He paused, expression veiled by the curtain of his hair. "Yeah," he said, though he didn't sound convinced.

A creased formed on her brow. She didn't know why it was so imperative that she get him to see that the person who had tried to kill him just before had not been his mum (spirits knew he didn't deserve her comfort), but regardless she found herself shuffling closer.

"Hey," she repeated, touching his arm. "Look at me."

Zuko didn't move, so she simply grasped his chin with her hand and turned his face towards her. His eyes widened slightly as he met her gaze, no doubt shocked by her boldness, but he made no motion to push her away.

"You said your mum sacrificed everything to save you, right?"

He nodded.

"Well, then, there's your answer." She let her hand slip down to clasp his hand, linking their fingers and giving a gentle squeeze. "After everything your mum did for you, she wouldn't just turn around and try to put you in danger. No mum who truly loved her child would do that."

Zuko stared at their intertwined fingers. Then he just sighed and turned away, slipping his hand free of her grasp. "I know what you say makes sense. There's no reason for my mother to be in this maze. No reason for her to be anywhere in this world. Her death was made official years ago." He hugged his knees to his chest. "I guess I just wanted so hard to believe that she was still alive, even if ... even if it meant she hated me."

Katara frowned. "I'm sure your mother wouldn't want you to think she hates you, Zuko."

His brow furrowed and he raised his head to stare at her in genuine curiosity. "What makes you think that?"

She touched the spot where her pendant normally rested on her chest. In her mind, she could see the sooty snow falling all around her and the ships closing in on her village, see the blood splattered on the blue stone that would never be warmed by a mother's life-force again. 

"Because I believe your mother chose to make that sacrifice out of love for you," Katara said softly, releasing her visions of the past and meeting his gaze. "Because that's what mums do."

Zuko let go of his knees and stretched his legs. His expression was distant, pensive. "Funny. My mum told me the same thing once."

"Then maybe you should listen to her."

A ghost of a smile tugged at his lips. "I'll keep that in mind."

Katara just nodded, and for a moment it was as if all of their bad history together had never happened. Understanding. Acknowledgment. She felt the connection grow stronger between them—stronger even than it had in the crystal cave when he had first opened up to her. No matter how much she wanted to hate him for what he had done in Ba Sing Se, she couldn't deny that her heart was attuned to his.

That they had a bond.

She frowned, unsettled by her feelings, and looked the other way. "We should go. There's not much sand left in the hourglass."

"You're right."

Zuko stood up and offered his hand to her. She hesitated only a moment before letting him pull her to her feet.

"Thanks," she murmured.

He let go of her hand. "I think I should be the one thanking you."

Katara felt her cheeks warm. "Well, I couldn't just let you die."

"Even though I'm a backstabbing jerk?"

Her blush darkened. His voice was teasing, but the expression in his eyes was grave, even curious. Flustered, she planted her hands on her hips and raised her chin, putting on a haughty front.

"Especially because of that," she retorted. "If anyone is going to kill you, Zuko, it's going to be me."

"Well, it's nice to know I'm still in your good books," he said wryly.

The corners of her mouth twitched upwards. "Just keep walking."

Zuko obliged and, after some backtracking, they headed deeper into the maze. Katara cast a sideways glance at the prince. In her heart, she knew she had not really forgiven him for siding with his sister back in Ba Sing Se. Still, a silent truce had been made. Even if they couldn't be friends, perhaps they could at least be allies of a sort.

She wondered why she even cared.


	4. In Which Fears Are Faced

Time was running out.

Zuko stared at the sand that almost filled the lower half of the hourglass, and which even now continued to fall like a trickle of blood oozing from an invisible wound. It wouldn't be long now before the last of the crimson drops fell. Then he and Katara would be trapped inside the maze forever.

His gaze shifted to the girl walking beside him. She was fingering one of the gold bangles on her wrist, spinning it round and round. A faint tinging sound echoed with each spin. He wondered what she was thinking about. Ever since they'd made that truce after the vision he'd seen of his mother, she'd become more subdued, like there was something troubling her mind. It made him uncomfortable. Mostly because he knew it had something to do with him. He still couldn't believe that he had broken down like that in front of her, as if he were a child.

_Poor little Zuzu, still crying after his mummy._

Zuko clenched his hands into fists. Azula's taunts stung him deeper than he cared to admit. His sister would always be a knife digging into his heart: close enough to be part of him, but hurtful all the same. Still, Katara had not laughed at him. She had not called him a baby, as Azula would have done. She had comforted him. She had accepted him, because she understood his feelings.

Because it was something they had in common.

Katara's gaze met his, gold irises colliding with blue. Zuko was reminded of another time they had stood this close, back in the crystal caves of Ba Sing Se. That was when he had first felt their bond. She had offered to heal him then, but he had chosen to walk a different path. He had not wanted her friendship; he had wanted what had been taken from him: his home, his throne, his family, and he had got it all. So why did he still feel so empty? Why was it only when he was with this girl that he felt the stirrings of something more substantial, as if she might hold all the answers to the questions his conflicted heart sought?

Katara tilted her head to the side. "What is it? You keep staring at me weirdly."

Zuko flinched and waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. "I—it's nothing. Let's just keep moving."

He marched ahead, keeping his head bowed. He heard her exhale loudly and follow. For a while they just walked in silence. Zuko noticed that the mist was getting thicker. It curled around them like white snakes, ruffling his hair and creeping along his bare skin. He could feel its clammy touch all over him.

"Not again," he muttered.

Katara stopped next to him. "What should we do? Every time the mist comes, something bad happens."

Zuko nodded. "I know."

First it had been walls and traps designed to confuse and mislead them. Then he had seen a vision of his mother, which had nearly ended with him plunging into an abyss. He couldn't believe that he would fall for the mist's tricks again, but still ...

Katara's fingers intertwined with his, pressing their palms together. "Let's just stick together this time. Okay?"

"Right."

He took a step forward, still holding Katara's hand. The mist got thicker. She sucked in a shaky breath as their vision was entirely swallowed in white. The stone walls had gone. Everything was gone. All that existed was the thudding beat of his heart and the warmth of Katara's hand—the only surety he had that he was not stuck in this world of cold tendrils and lies alone.

"We can do this," she murmured.

Zuko squeezed her hand, saying through action what he could not express in words. Together, they walked deeper into the mist. He felt its invasive touch slither closer around him, almost as if it were sinking under his skin and entering his mind. Katara's grip tightened.

"Don't let g—"

Her voice cut off in a gasp. Suddenly, he was clutching nothing but air.

"Katara?" he spun around, faced on every side with a wall of white. "Katara!"

No response. Her touch, her warmth, it was gone. Zuko was alone. A split-second later the world began to reform within the mist, taking shape in colours of resplendent red and gold. A stone dais pieced itself together like a jigsaw, taking the centre stage. It was all too familiar. Zuko stumbled backwards, his face drained of colour. It was as if someone had punched him in the gut.

"No," he said in a choked voice.

A man knelt at the far end of the dais with his back turned to Zuko. Slowly, the man stood and turned, letting the red cape slip from his shoulders to bare his muscular chest. Sleek black hair framed a pale face, and on the top of his head a five-pronged crown glowed in the shape of a flame.

"No," Zuko repeated, taking an involuntary step back. "You're not real. This isn't real." He shook his head. "It's just an illusion."

Fire Lord Ozai walked closer, tall and emotionless just like he had been that day. Panic welled inside Zuko. He was a child again, bruising his knees on a cold platform. The towering figure of his father loomed over him, and he couldn't look up because then, because then—

_"What are you so afraid of, Zuzu?"_

Azula's voice echoed inside Zuko's mind, freezing him in waves of anxiety. That's right. He hadn't wanted to look up during the Agni Kai, because a part of him had known what he would see in those molten-gold eyes: the scorn of a father who believed his son was not worth sparing; that the child he had raised was weak and dispensable, like an ill-mannered servant that had no further use. It was a truth Zuko had never wanted to accept, yet in the last minute he had looked up. That was when fire had greeted him in all its burning savagery. He had not met his father's gaze since. Not once.

Azula's laughter chimed in his mind like razor-sharp bells. _"Is that really why you're afraid? Think harder, Zuzu."_

Zuko clenched his hands into fists. It didn't matter! None of this was real! He could just walk away and it wouldn't make a difference.

"Coward. Stand and fight!"

Zuko froze under the weight of his father's commanding tone. His hands trembled. "You're not real," he muttered, keeping his back turned. "You're just an illusion."

"And yet you still can't face me," Ozai said. "Pathetic."

Something snapped inside Zuko. Years of rage and bitterness surged through him like a thousand screams tearing through his chest. He spun around with a hoarse cry and charged at the man he called father. His hand formed a fist, getting ready to connect with pale flesh. There would be no shadow of fire, but it didn't matter. It was the physical contact that would give relief.

"Shut up!" Zuko screamed. "Just shut up!"

His fist made a sweeping arc, knuckles passing through angular cheekbone as if his father's body was made of wisps of air. Ozai materialised next to him a split-second later. Zuko growled and attacked that image of his father as well, and the next, and the next. He kept on punching, ignoring the tears that blurred his vision, ignoring the sickening feeling that grew inside him. It was only when he heard his sister's mocking laughter that he slowed, collapsing to his knees and letting his hands drop to his sides.

 _"Look up, Zuzu,"_ Azula taunted.

Zuko had no strength left. He raised his eyes and looked into his father's face. Except the man wearing the five-pronged crown was now branded with an ugly scar, contorting his expression into a permanent scowl. That whole time Zuko had been fighting himself.

"No," he whispered.

 _"Yes,"_ Azula's voice said with cool satisfaction. _"You finally see now, don't you?"_

Ozai materialised next to the image of a long-haired Zuko crowned with the Fire Lord's headpiece. Father and son had never looked more alike.

"We are the same," the two images said in unison.

"No," Zuko repeated, shaking his head. "I'm not—I'm not like you."

Ozai smiled. "But you are. You betrayed those who helped you, even your loving uncle, to achieve what you wanted. You did whatever it took to get your way." His eyes warmed with acceptance. "Prince Zuko, you are indeed my son."

Zuko's body trembled.

_"What are you so afraid of, Zuzu?"_

Azula's words were a whisper in his mind, echoing over and over again. This time, he could not hide from the truth.

 _I'm afraid that my father will never accept me,_ Zuko admitted silently, bowing his head. _But I'm more afraid that he will, because that would mean—_

That would mean that he was just like Ozai and Azula. Just as cruel. Just as quick to dismiss those who loved them for the sake of gaining power. It would mean that the boy he once was had grown to ignore his mother's final words, choosing to forget rather than remember his true identity.

But it would also mean that there would be no reason for him to feel such sickening guilt, such soul-battering conflict in his heart. Because if he really had become like his father, then all the selfish decisions that he had made during the past three years should not feel like they were tearing him apart. None of it should matter at all. Not the way he had betrayed his uncle, not turning his back on Katara when she had offered him friendship. None of it.

"No!" Zuko curled his hands into fists. "I don't care what you say. I am not my father!" He got to his feet, facing the two firebenders. "I know that none of this is real. You're just illusions created from my own fears, but either way it doesn't matter. You have no power over me." A faint smile touched his lips. "I'm not afraid anymore."

The images of the two firebenders rippled, as if they were reflections cast upon a watery surface. Then a breeze blew through the stadium and everything turned to mist, coiling and spinning upon itself in wispy tendrils. Zuko let out a breath as he found himself standing in the middle of a stone courtyard. Not far from him, Katara sat hunched on the ground, hugging her knees to her chest.

"Hey," he said, walking over to where she sat. "You alright?"

Her eyes were swollen and rimmed with red. She had been crying. Zuko waited for her to respond, but she just continued to stare at her knees in that lost way of hers. He had a mad urge to pull her into his arms, but instead he crouched next to her.

"Was it the illusions?" he asked.

For a long time she said nothing. Zuko let out a breath. Upset or not, they didn't have time to sit around like this. The sand was still falling. He started to stand.

"I saw the man who killed my mother."

He paused, whipping his head around to stare at her. She hadn't moved, though a fine tremor shivered through her body.

"It wasn't real," Zuko said in what he hoped was a reassuring voice. "You know that, right? Everything you saw was just an illusion."

"I know," she said, tightening her grip on her knees. "I knew it even as I saw him standing there in my house, just as he had that day. Logic told me that none of it was real, but I still—I just—"

Zuko made a humming sound of agreement. "I know. I think that was the point of that illusion. It shows us what we fear the most."

Katara raised her head to meet his gaze. He saw that her expression was not so much lost as it was brittle. It was as if she had hardened her core so much that she had simultaneously become fragile. "I'm not afraid of him." Her knuckles burned white. "I wanted to kill him."

Zuko frowned. "Then—"

"Because I was helpless," she said flatly. "I couldn't do anything to stop him from killing my mother that day. This time, I was forced to watch that man kill my brother, my father, Aang, Toph, Suki—every single person I have loved and cherished." She closed her eyes, bowing her head so that her face was hidden against her knees. "That is my greatest fear: that all the bending I have mastered will mean nothing, because in the end I won't be able to protect the ones I love. I'll be left alone."

Zuko let out a breath. "I don't think you have to worry about that."

She peeped up at him through the curtain of her hair. "What makes you say that?"

"Because you're strong. Far stronger than you realise."

She shook her head. "No I'm not. I mean, I couldn't even stop you and your sister from hurting Aang in Ba Sing Se."

"But you did."

Her eyes widened. "What?"

Zuko pointed at her neck. "I know the Avatar is alive. That little bottle of healing water you always carry around with you is gone. You used it on him, right? After Azula struck him with lightning?"

Some of the colour drained from her face. "That's not—I didn't—"

"It's okay." He waved his hand dismissively. "I won't tell anyone. Honestly, I'm kind of relieved that arrow-headed idiot is still alive. It's one less weight on my conscience."

She blinked. "You're relieved? But—"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm a terrible person." He gave a wry smile and got to his feet, stretching his arms over his head. "Look, just forget about what you experienced during the mist. The helplessness you felt? It wasn't real, Katara. You're a master waterbender and a healer as well. If anyone can protect the people they love, it's you."

Her jaw went slack. Zuko was very conscious of her wide-eyed stare. Heat rose to his cheeks and he rubbed the base of his neck. Why did his attempts to be a good person always turn out to be so awkward? He'd only wanted to make her feel better—it was the least he could do since she had comforted him after his mini breakdown earlier—but she was staring at him as if he was a dung beetle-wasp that had just started singing a love ballad. It was all very uncomfortable.

"Uh, right," he muttered, averting his face. "I guess you don't really want to hear this stuff from me."

He stepped away, but then slender fingers closed around his wrist. Zuko paused, still with his back turned to her.

"Thank you," Katara said softly.

Zuko closed his eyes. He felt like something heavy had just been removed from his shoulders. He knew that he should say something, a "you're welcome" or maybe something smooth about how he was only speaking the truth. His uncle would have been able to pull it off. Instead, Zuko's blush darkened and he made a noncommittal noise that sounded more like a grunt. Yeah, real smooth.

Katara released his wrist and stood up. "Well, in any case, I'm glad we made it out of the mist. You said that illusion showed us what we fear the most, right?" She stepped in front of him, peering curiously up at his face. "What did you see?"

Zuko couldn't bring himself to meet her gaze. "It doesn't matter now. Besides, I don't think we'll have to worry about that mist again."

A crease formed on her brow. "How do you know?"

"Something that dragon-moose Bill said when he introduced himself." Zuko scratched his head, ruffling his already messy hair. "I don't remember all of it, but it was something about him being mist and walls, and then he said 'I am what you wish to see and what you fear the most.'"

Katara's eyes widened. "The illusions have all been following a pattern!"

He nodded. "The deeper we've made it into the maze, the more difficult the illusions have been to overcome. First, we were tested on our ability to see through tricks and to overcome physical barriers. Then he played on our emotions by making us see the things we want to see above all else, as well as fear the most."

"That's why you thought you saw your mother," Katara said, catching on.

"Right."

Katara tapped a finger to her chin. "Now that I think about it, I think I might have seen an illusion like that when I was drunk on that caterpillar's tea. I vaguely recall following Aang to what I thought would be the exit, except I ended up falling down that trapdoor." She pursed her lips. "And here I thought I'd just been having drunken hallucinations."

"Take it up with Bill when you see him." The tiniest of smirks curved his mouth. "I have a feeling it won't be long."

She raised an eyebrow in question. Zuko pointed to the grand staircase that had unveiled itself at the end of the courtyard. They could not see where the spiralling stairs led because it was so high, but it was the first time the two of them had been given any option except left, right or forward. An answering grin tugged at her lips.

"Do you really think it leads to the exit?" she asked.

"Only one way to find out."

Katara laughed and dashed forward, practically bouncing on her feet as she started climbing the stairs. It seemed hard to believe that only minutes ago she had been hunched in a ball, crying because of the nightmarish visions she had been forced to watch. She really was so much stronger than she realised.

Zuko flexed his hand, still able to feel the imprint of her touch from when she thanked him. He didn't understand why the memory made him want to smile.


	5. In Which There Are Showdowns

Zuko had come to two conclusions. The first was that Katara was kind of cu— _nice_ —when she wasn't yelling at him or trying to turn him into an icicle. The second was that Bill was crazy. Really crazy.

The top of the stairs had seen the end of the mist and rock that had decorated the maze in which Zuko and Katara had found themselves trapped. Instead, bright lights flashed in hues of the rainbow in a dizzying flicker and confetti fell from nowhere in the shapes of tiny dragon-mooses. At the centre of it all was Bill in the most gaudy, most disgustingly bright outfit Zuko had ever seen. The dragon-moose wore a lime-green suit that sparkled in the light with sequins. A purple and yellow polka-dot scarf had been tied around his neck, and he wore a green top hat with a purple and yellow ribbon that had holes inserted to allow his antlers to poke through. He seemed to be standing on some kind of raised podium, while behind him were floating images that featured snapshots of Zuko and Katara's trek through the maze. Upbeat music was blasting from out of nowhere, like an overly chirpy victory fanfare.

"What the hell?" Zuko muttered.

He came to a halt and stared at the scene before him, nose scrunched in distaste. The suit alone was enough to make him nauseous. Katara looked equally stunned. She blinked a few times, her mouth hanging open in an unattractive gape. Bill smiled and swept into a showman's bow.

"Welcome!" he said in a booming voice. "Congratulations on making it this far!" He raised his clawed finger, and a wicked grin curved his lips. "Of course, this is as far as you will go."

Katara snapped out of her daze and stepped forward. "Hold it! You said we only had to make it out of the maze and then we could leave. Well, we made it out of the maze!"

Bill made a tsking sound and waggled his finger at her. "I'm afraid you haven't made it out just yet. This is the final level, and this time you will have an opponent." He smiled again, showing off every one of his pointed teeth.

Zuko folded his arms across his chest. "You mean we have to defeat you."

"Got it in one!" Bill clapped his hands in mock applause. "Good to know you're not just a pretty face."

Zuko's cheeks warmed and he made a few spluttering sounds. Damn that dragon-moose always making him feel like he was on the wrong foot. Katara looked a bit amused at his reaction, but she sobered a second later. Ridiculous as the situation was, it didn't change the fact that they were still trapped.

"Fine," she said, planting her hands on her hips and jutting her chin. "If the only way to get out of here is to defeat you, then we'll just defeat you!"

"Such confidence," Bill observed with a smile. "I wonder how long it will last."

Zuko heaved a sigh. "Let's just skip the taunts and get on with it."

Bill's smile didn't so much as crack. He clapped his hands together, setting off pink puffs of smoke and more confetti. The ground rumbled and then shot up from underneath Zuko's feet, making the firebender lurch and shift his feet to keep his balance. When the movement stopped, Zuko found himself standing with Katara on a floating platform inside an open-roofed dome that was lined with rows upon rows of tiered seats. Said seats were filled with what looked like paper cut-out figures with silly faces scribbled on them in ink. Zuko didn't know what was stranger: the fact that he could actually hear cheering coming from the paper crowd, or that Bill had changed into a lime-green, sparkly loincloth. Actually, the latter was just disturbing.

A green caterpillar joined them on its own platform, wearing a whistle round its fuzzy neck. Katara made a choked noise and pointed her finger at the caterpillar.

"You!" she exclaimed. "You're the one who gave me that weird tea and got me drunk! So, you've been working with Bill this whole time!"

The caterpillar raised one of its bushy eyebrows. "You only figured that out now? I always thought humans were obtuse."

"Kuaile," Bill said in a warning voice. "Play nice. How can the humans consider you an impartial referee if you keep making snarky comments about them?"

Zuko repressed a snort. "Your name is Kuaile?"

For a spirit whose name meant "happy", he'd never seen a living creature with a grumpier expression. The caterpillar had a permanent scowl that put even Zuko's own broody frowns to shame.

Kuaile fixed his glare on Zuko. "You got a problem with that, Prince Hot Stuff?"

Zuko raised his hands in a gesture of denial. The last thing he needed was to start an argument with a cantankerous caterpillar. That was also why he decided not to question how the caterpillar was supposed to use the referee's whistle hanging round its neck. He remembered from his encounter with Pagus how sensitive the maze inhabitants seemed to get when the issue of their lack of hands was raised.

"Anyway," Bill said, bestowing the two teenagers with a jaw-cracking smile. "Kuaile will be the host and referee for our showdown. I hope this works for you."

"It doesn't work for me," Kuaile muttered in a long-suffering voice.

Bill somehow managed to smile even wider. "Do you want me to raise your rent again?"

Kuaile paused and then a gong and gavel appeared out of nowhere, hovering in the air in front of the caterpillar. He used his tail to curl around the gavel and hit the gong, making the dome echo with a deep, ringing sound. Apparently, the whistle was just for show.

"Ladies and gentleman," Kuaile began in a monotone, his expression as blank as an unmarked slate. "Welcome to the Labyrinth of Illusions' annual 'Escape or Die and Be Trapped Here Forever' showdown. Our challengers are—"

Bill cleared his throat.

Kuaile heaved a dramatic sigh, but then he plastered on a grin and his voice shifted into the jaunty tone of a game-show host. "Our challengers are Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation and Katara of the Southern Water Tribe versus our very own Master of Illusions, Cuojue Bili-Shi-Jing!"

The noise of the crowd grew louder, though the paper figures remained immovable. Zuko tried very hard not to facepalm. This was ridiculous.

Kuaile cleared his throat and began explaining the rules of the "showdown". The aim was to clear the ten challenges and earn points. The team with the highest points at the end would be declared the winners. Naturally, Zuko and Katara would be representing Team No Hope while Bill ("Being an all-powerful spirit," as he pointed out with a pointy-toothed smile) would represent Team Awesome by himself. It was only fair that way.

Katara gave Bill her best stink-eye. "Why are we called Team No Hope while you've got Team Awesome?"

"Because it's the truth," Bill responded without missing a beat. "You have no hope, and I am terribly awesome. Just listen to my fans."

As if on cue, the paper crowd started cheering louder. Katara's expression became even less impressed.

"Change the name," she said flatly.

Bill sighed and waved his hand at Kuaile in a sign of permission.

"Very well," Kuaile said, not sparing a glance at the teenagers. "It's Team Awesome versus Team Idiot Humans. Now—"

Katara opened her mouth to argue, but Zuko grabbed her arm to get her attention.

"Just let it go," he muttered. "We're wasting time here. Look, the sand in the hourglass is still falling."

He pointed at the giant hourglass that hovered at the top of the dome. Sure enough, crimson sand continued to trickle down and gather in a pile at the bottom of the glass. Some of the colour drained from Katara's cheeks.

"What is this?" she demanded. "We're still running on a time limit?"

Bill made a show of acting innocent, complete with exaggerated blinking and covering his mouth with his hand. "Oh, did I forget to tell you? Even if you manage to get more points than me, if you run out of time while completing the challenges, you'll still be trapped in my maze forever." He gasped. "Oh dear, and it looks like you don't have much time left either."

Katara audibly swallowed. Zuko was glad she let the matter of their team name slide. They really couldn't afford to waste time.

"If you're done with the interruptions," Kuaile said, scowling at them in his trademark I-Will-Kill-You-If-You-Don't-Shut-Up expression.

Bill, Zuko and Katara dutifully fell silent, though Bill did throw Kuaile another warning smile. Grumpiness was a no. Gameshow host cheer was a must. The caterpillar took the hint and tried to inject some energy into his tone as he explained the rest of the rules and what to avoid so as not to be disqualified. (No leaving the ring, only one participant from each team at a time, no singing the "Funky Dunky Toad-Monkey" song.)

"'Funky Dunky Toad-Monkey'?" Katara questioned.

Bill visibly shuddered. "That song was stuck in my head for half a century thanks to that squinty-eyed airbender brat." He cringed. "No! I can hear the tune again even now. Quick, Kuaile, change the subject!"

Kuaile's lips twitched upwards in a vindictive little smile, but he obliged all the same. He explained that the prizes up for grabs were free passes back to the Physical World, a stuffed dragon-moose wearing a monocle, and commemorative shirts bearing the words: 'I conquered the Labyrinth of Illusions and all I got was this lousy T-shirt'. Needless to say, Zuko and Katara were going for the free passes.

"Let the showdown begin!" Kuaile declared, and then used his tail to grab the gavel and hit the gong.

Confetti and lights burst from out of nowhere, even as the platform extended into a battle arena. Bill now stood on the left side under the banner "TEAM AWESOME", smiling his pointy-toothed smile, and looking garishly horrid in his loincloth. Zuko and Katara were on the right-hand side with their own banner: TEAM IDIOT HUMANS. A scoreboard had also appeared which had their team names inked on top and a big zero next to each name. Zuko tried to ignore the prickle of nerves wriggling around in his stomach. There was no saying what kind of challenges Bill would throw at them for this ridiculous showdown.

"Participants for Challenge One, please take your place!" Kuaile ordered.

Katara stepped forward. "I'm going first."

Zuko blinked. "Hey, wait a mo—"

But he never did get to finish his sentence. As soon as Katara stepped over the line and into the main part of the arena, loud, chirpy music started playing again and drowned out his voice. A floating screen appeared next to Kuaile, swirling with mist.

"Alright, let's see what the first challenge will be," Kuaile said, his smile so forced it was more of a grimace.

As if on cue, the mist started swirling faster on the screen and then cleared, revealing the words Water, Earth, Fire, Air. The paper crowd ooohed and cheered. Zuko just blinked. The first challenge was a children's game.

Katara moved to stand opposite Bill in the middle of the ring. She planted her hands on her hips, raising her chin in a defiant tilt. "You're going down, Bill!"

Bill chuckled. "Show me what you've got, waterbender."

Kuaile hit the gong to signal the start of the challenge. Immediately, Bill and Katara began chanting the elements and shaking their fists in time to each word. After "air", they both brought their hands out in their chosen element. Katara was making the symbol for water, while Bill was making the symbol for air. The crowd erupted into an explosion of cheers.

"I lost," Katara said, letting her hand fall back to her side. "I can't believe I lost."

Bill cackled and punched his fist into the air. "Works every time. You benders are all the same, always choosing your own element. So predictable."

Zuko just groaned and watched as ten points replaced the zero next to Team Awesome. Katara trudged back to Team Idiot Humans' corner, her shoulders slumped.

"Sorry," she muttered.

Zuko made a noise that might have been a sound of comfort, but mostly he was distracted by Bill skipping around the ring and doing some kind of victory dance. Alright, that little dragon-moose punk was really getting on his nerves. Time to get serious.

Kuaile called for the two of them to take their positions in the arena. Zuko glared at Bill, even as the screen swirled with mist and cleared to reveal the next challenge. This time it was a game of Twisty Elements. Like magic, a large white mat appeared and unfurled itself next to them. Lined along the mat in six horizontal rows were the symbols of the four elements printed onto their representative colour: blue for water, green for earth, red for fire, and yellow for air. A spinner board with the same symbols repeated in a circle, along with the words and sections to direct which body parts they needed to use, was now hovering next to Kuaile.

"May the best dragon-moose win," Bill said with a grin.

Zuko ignored the comment. The gong boomed, and then Kuaile used his tail to spin the little dial, which whirred round and round before landing on the symbol for fire in the left foot section. Zuko put his left foot on the bottom red spot while Bill did the same on the other end.

"Good luck, Zuko!" Katara shouted from their corner. "You can do this!"

"Don't let your girlfriend down," Bill teased.

"She's not my girlfri—"

"Right hand, air," Kuaile intoned.

Zuko planted his hand on one of the air spots. Bill matched him, still grinning. As the game went on, the two of them gradually got more tangled with each other. Zuko was glad that he had spent so many years honing his body to be strong and flexible. Bill probably should have struggled more, given his hoofed feet and smaller frame, but Zuko could have sworn the dragon-moose was cheating.

"Left foot, earth," Kuaile called.

Zuko stamped his foot onto the closest spot, which, unfortunately, put his face next to Bill's hairy butt. The only other green symbol left was right at the other end, too far away for Bill's stumpy leg to reach. So, of course, that same stumpy leg suddenly extended longer than was dragon-moosely possible, almost as if made of rubber, and allowed Bill to put his left hoof on the green spot.

"I knew it!" Zuko exclaimed. "You've been cheating this whole time!"

Bill cackled. "Who says I'm cheating? My body is just extendable. Nothing tricksy about that."

"Kuaile!" Katara complained, turning accusing eyes on the caterpillar. "You're supposed to be an impartial referee. Surely this can't be fair!"

"I don't see why not," Kuaile said with a shrug. He was currently sipping tea and glancing at a scroll. "There are no rules against having a stretchable body."

Zuko swore. He knew he had no real hope of winning. Still, he had never been one to give up, so he gave it his all right until the bitter end, even trying a few dirty tricks of his own (like tickling Bill when Kuaile wasn't watching). Alas, no amount of stubbornness or dirty tricks could compete against a stretchy, cheaty body. Bill won, and ten more points were added to Team Awesome.

The next challenge ended in much the same way. Bill did whatever the heck he liked, Kuaile sipped tea and read scrolls, and Katara returned with a downcast expression while Team Awesome got all the points.

"This sucks," Katara declared, once Zuko had returned to their team corner after losing an arm wrestling battle. (Bill had quadrupled his size, not to mention strength, making it impossible for Zuko to beat him.) "Bill clearly keeps cheating and Kuaile isn't doing a thing to stop him. We're never going to get out of this place at this rate."

Zuko clenched his hands into fists. "Don't worry, Katara. We will get out of here."

Katara didn't seem very impressed by this statement. She obviously didn't understand that dealing with a cheating dragon-moose was nothing compared to the crap Zuko had been forced to deal with in the Physical World his entire life. No, he did not give up easily, and this was just one of many obstacles that he would overcome. Though he did have to admit that he was getting frustrated. Very, very frustrated.

The next challenge began with the clanging of the gong. This time Katara and Bill were playing Janus Says: a game where the leader held up a flag, white or red, and the contestants had to quickly raise the matching flag. Once a flag had been raised, the choice could not be changed. There was only a few seconds to make the decision as well. The first person to make a mistake would lose. Kuaile had brought in a special guest to act as the leader: a two-headed sloth named Janus, who happened to be the same spirit who had been at Kuaile's tea party. Already the heads were arguing with each other. It was like being stuck around Pagus and Magus again.

Zuko sucked in a breath as he watched the game. Katara was actually holding her own against Bill. Perhaps it was because there was no real way for Bill to cheat. All either of them could do was raise their flags and hope they didn't make a mistake.

"Come on, Katara," Zuko murmured. "Please win."

They could not afford to lose any more challenges. Bill was already forty points ahead. Fortunately, the spirit of luck seemed to finally smile upon them. Janus raised both flags at the same time, then lowered the white, then quickly brought it up again while lowering the red. The white flag was left remaining. Bill's jaw dropped: he was holding the red flag up while Katara held the white.

The gong clanged and Kuaile declared Team Idiot Humans the winner. Ten points were added to their score on the board.

"We won!" Katara yelled, running back to the corner and throwing her arms around Zuko in a hug. "We finally got some points!"

Zuko stood there a bit awkwardly, not sure what to do with so much cute girl in his space. Luckily (or perhaps not so luckily) Katara released him a second later and turned to Bill, pulling down her eyelid and poking out her tongue at the dragon-moose. Bill sniffed and acted like he couldn't see her.

"Go get him, Zuko!" Katara said, turning back to grin at the firebender. "We can do this!"

Zuko just swallowed. The way she was smiling, so warm and happy—as if they were actually friends and not just assigned team mates—made him feel like a whole lot of butterfly-mantises were fluttering around inside his stomach. It took Kuaile calling his name to make him snap out of his daze.

Blinking, Zuko tore his gaze away from Katara with an effort and made his way to the middle of the arena. The usual routine began of choosing the challenge. Zuko really, really hoped that he'd get something easy. Too bad his luck had never lasted long.

"Dance Off," he read, and then scrunched his nose. "What the heck?"

Bill rubbed his clawed hands together with glee. "Poor princeling. I hear the Fire Nation banned dancing during the last hundred years. Do you even know how to dance?"

Zuko blinked. Then he blinked some more. "Dancing?"

Katara faceplamed. "I clearly celebrated too early." She glanced at Kuaile. "Are we allowed to switch places?"

"Not unless you want to get disqualified," Kuaile responded blandly, flipping over his scroll.

Katara groaned. "Alright, Zuko, you're just going to have to try your best! Dancing is actually easy if you don't overthink it. Just listen to your body and move to the music."

Zuko pulled a face. "Listen to my body and move to the music? To hell with that!"

Bill flashed his teeth in a grin. "Do you forfeit then?"

Zuko gulped. Nope. No forfeiting. He would just have to dance. Even if it sounded horribly embarrassing.

Kuaile explained the rules in his usual monotone, interspersed with some energetic phrases whenever Bill glowered at him. In short, music would play and Zuko and Bill would take their turn dancing to the tune, except for in the final round when they would dance at the same time. The crowd's cheering would determine point scores. The person with the most points would win.

The gong sounded and then music started to play: a strange blend of instruments that sounded both familiar and foreign to Zuko. Bill started first and began moving on the spot, spinning on his hoofed feet, wiggling his hips, and moving his arms in time to the beat. The dragon-moose looked completely ridiculous, but the crowd seemed to enjoy it and cheered happily enough. Bill ended his sequence by doing the splits, then leaping up and pointing his finger at Zuko.

"Um." Zuko stood there awkwardly.

Aw, hell. What the heck was he supposed to do?

The crowd got restless. A few boos began to rumble through the paper figures. Zuko saw Katara standing with her face hidden in her hands, unable to watch such a useless performance from her team mate. He gritted his teeth and rolled his shoulders. Fine. This went against every bone and fibre in his body, but fine.

Zuko inhaled a breath and closed his eyes. He listened to the drums. They seemed to guide the rest of the music, determining when the movement should be slow or fast. No doubt it would be the same for his body, if Katara's advice was to be believed. There was no way in heck he was going to pull the same moves as Bill (just the thought of doing the pelvis thrust thing made Zuko want to die of embarrassment) but there was something the prince did know, and that was sword fighting, martial arts and firebending. He exhaled and began to move.

The crowd ooohed and aaahed. Zuko had been clumsy as a child, but there was nothing awkward about him now. He moved with rare grace, completely in tune with his body and the rhythm that guided him as he blended the different fighting styles he had mastered with the music. He imagined swords and fire in his hands; he saw opponents that came at him from every side, making him duck and flip, parry and strike, shifting and changing into stances with a silky yet forceful fluidity. The crowd cheered, getting louder and louder. Some of them even wolf-whistled.

Zuko ended his sequence in the stance for a powered fireball: arms extended towards Bill with his right hand held palm-up and resting on his left hand. His expression was fierce, a silent "Come at me, bro!" that was charged with enough fire to make up for Zuko's current lack of bending. In his mind, this wasn't just a silly dance off anymore. This was a battle, and there was no way he was going to lose.

The music changed, shifting into a faster tempo. Bill performed his part of the dance, doing lots of strange sliding things with his feet, and making odd loops and stilted movements with his arms. Zuko countered with a particularly complicated dual-dao move, spinning round and round like a tornado as if to fight off arrows. He rolled to dodge an invisible attack, then twisted on the ground in his trademark counter-kick, letting imagined flames rise around him as he rose up and stopped inches from Bill's face. The crowd roared in his ears, thundering and screaming.

Once again the music changed to signal the third round: a simultaneous dance off. Bill began with some odd leaping thing, spreading his arms and legs as he jumped around on his tiptoes and twirled an impossible amount of times. Zuko didn't even hesitate, pulling out all the stops as he drew upon every advanced firebending technique he knew to weave a fierce "dance" that was as unforgiving as it was mesmerising. By the end, they were both breathing hard, but the crowd was chanting Zuko's name over and over.

Kuaile hit the gong to end the round. Bill slumped to his knees, his eyes wide with shock.

"I don't believe it," he muttered. "I lost. How? How could I lose to an uptight stiff like you?"

Zuko blushed. He could see Katara waving and cheering for him out the corner of his eye. His unscarred cheek darkened and he found himself wanting to retreat into a shell like a turtleduck. Maybe he hadn't danced like Bill, but there was something still so awkward about being on display while moving in time to music.

Still with his face burning, Zuko walked back to his team corner and joined Katara. "Please don't ever mention this to anyone," he murmured.

"Come on, you were great," she told him. "There's no need to feel embarrassed."

He noticed that her cheeks looked a bit pink as well. Huh.

Kuaile cleared his throat. "Yes, yes, Prince Hot Stuff has some moves. Now let's get on with the rest of the challenges."

Bill heaved himself back into a standing position. "You're right. There are still four more challenges to go. Too bad for Team Idiot Humans that I'm in the lead."

"Only by twenty points," Katara retorted.

The dragon-moose grinned. "You won't beat me again, little girl. Your winning streak is over."

Just as Bill predicted, Katara lost the next round. Zuko also lost the one after that, which should have been the end of it, except that Kuaile declared the next challenge to be a bonus round and worth forty points. Katara won, much to Bill's disgust.

"Why are you offering bonus rounds?" Bill demanded, glaring at the caterpillar.

Kuaile shrugged. "I thought it might spice things up."

Zuko let out a sigh of relief. They were now tied with Bill for sixty points. There was only one challenge left. If he won now, it would all be over and he and Katara could go home.

Katara clasped his hand in hers and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "Go and win it for us, Zuko," she said with a smile.

He nodded and moved to stand in the middle of the arena. Bill faced him, still a scarring sight in his sparkly green loincloth. Kuaile set the mist screen in motion. Words formed, but they were not the words Zuko wanted to see. The final challenge was some kind of quiz game. They didn't have enough time for such nonsense. The bottom of the hourglass was almost full.

"The rules are simple," Kuaile explained. "You ask your opponent questions that they then must answer correctly. Get an answer wrong or fail to answer and you will lose."

Bill smiled. "What a shame. It looks like this is the end for Team Idiot Humans."

Zuko didn't so much as flinch. He knew that Bill was some kind of amazingly powerful spirit and had the ability to see, at least to a point, into people's hearts and minds. There was no doubt that Zuko was at a disadvantage, but being the underdog was nothing new to him. He'd always had to struggle and fight, and that had made him strong. It had given him the ability to create his own luck.

And right now he had a brilliant idea.

The gong sounded and the quiz game began. They flipped a coin to decide who would go first. Zuko won the coin toss, but he could tell by the smile on Bill's face that the dragon-moose had allowed him to do so. Probably wanted to rub it in about how all-knowing and powerful he was. No matter. This was exactly what Zuko had wanted.

Zuko exhaled and met Bill's slit-like eyes. "How does the song 'Funky Dunky Toad-Monkey' go?" he asked calmly.

Bill snorted. "That's easy. It's like this."

The dragon-moose started singing a truly awful song, one so catchy and horrible that Zuko could understand why it might have got stuck in Bill's head for half a century. The clang of the gong put an end to the torture.

"Disqualified," Kuaile declared in his usual monotone.

Bill blinked. In slow motion, his eyes widened and his mouth twisted as he realised what Zuko had done. "You tricked me!" he accused, pointing his finger at the firebender. "You knew that song had been banned!"

Zuko shrugged. "I only asked a question. You were the one who started singing."

Bill let out a wail and collapsed to his knees, smashing his fist against the ground and bemoaning the fact that he had lost because of that cursed song. Worse, it had got stuck in his head again, and now he would probably be stuck with it for another fifty years.

"Curse you, Funky Dunky Toad-Monkey!" Bill moaned, gripping his ears as if to ward off the tune. "Curse you to Kao's lair and back!"

Kuaile clapped his hands in false cheer. "Hooray for Team Idiot Humans," he deadpanned. "You may now choose your prize."

Katara moved to stand beside Zuko. "Obviously, we're going to take the free passes to the Physical World." She flicked her hair over her shoulder. "That one is a no-brainer."

"You sure you don't want the dragon-moose plushy?" Bill asked, getting back to his feet. "It's a limited edition."

"Not interested," Zuko said flatly.

Bill held up the T-shirt. "What about this? It's so stylish and—"

"Just give us the passes!" Katara snapped.

Bill's shoulders slumped. "Fine. I suppose I can let you leave. You did beat my labyrinth, and I am a dragon-moose of my word."

Even the hourglass had disappeared. It was like a weight had been lifted off Zuko's shoulders. The race to escape had finally come to an end. He and Katara could go home. He could—

Zuko twitched. _Home_. Odd how he felt no joy about returning to the palace. It was his home, but that was just a label that didn't mean anything to him now, because Uncle was in prison and Mum no longer sat by the turtleduck pond. Everything had changed. Everything was wrong.

"Hey," Katara said gently, resting her hand on his arm. "You okay?"

Zuko sucked in a breath. Her touch was oddly reassuring, making him feel like he had solid footing again. The life he lived at the palace didn't make sense to him anymore, but Katara did. Because somehow she had become a friend to him in this crazy place. Because somehow, by being with her, he had been reminded that there was another destiny for him out there if he was brave enough to choose it.

_"What are you so afraid of, Zuzu?"_

_"I am not my father! I know that none of this is real. You're just illusions created from my own fears, but either way it doesn't matter. You have no power over me. I'm not afraid anymore."_

"Zuko?" Katara frowned up at him in concern.

He smiled. A warm, sincere smile. "I'm fine. Let's go home, Katara."

Pink dusted her cheeks. "Okay."

Bill whipped out his pitchfork. "Alright, two free passes back to the Physical World coming right up!"

Zuko's smile cracked. "Hold on—"

"You're not going to—" Katara began, face paling.

Bill just cackled and swung his pitchfork. Sure enough, Zuko felt a force drive into him, sending him plummeting forward straight into a gap that appeared in the wall. Purple light engulfed him, and he once more experienced the odd sensation of falling forwards instead of downwards. His body squeezed and compressed, his ears popped, and just when he thought he couldn't take it anymore, he emerged from the light and found himself back in the Physical World.

"Katara!" he exclaimed.

But of course she wasn't there. He was in the palace, sprawled on the floor in his bedroom, and a female servant was staring at him with googly eyes. She let out a small "meep" noise and ran from the room, no doubt frightened from the fact that he had just appeared out of nowhere. Zuko sighed and flopped onto his back.

"I hope you made it back safely, Katara," he murmured.

It was kind of frustrating that he hadn't been able to say goodbye or at least thank her for her assistance in the maze. Then again, she had been wearing that red outfit and the gold jewellery. A tiny smile curved his lips.

"So, you and your friends are in the Fire Nation, huh?" He got to his feet and moved to the window, glancing out upon the city and the lands beyond. "Next time we meet, I promise I'll make the right choice."

Because he knew there would be a next time. In fact, he was going to make sure of it.

.

.

.

OMAKE

Kuaile stared at his friend, Bill, who had shrunk to caterpillar size and was sprawled out on the armchair with his hairy hooves resting on the footstool. Every now and then Bill would start humming an awful tune, only to stop and screw his face up in frustration.

"Damn that song!" Bill muttered. "I still can't get it out of my head."

"Serves you right for messing with humans," Kuaile retorted. "I warned you not to get involved."

Bill waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. "It all turned out in the end. The little princeling realised that he needed to side with the Avatar and help restore balance to the world, the girl was able to forgive him for betraying her in Ba Sing Se, and if I'm reading my tea leaves correctly, Steam Babies are now in the cards for the future!" He puffed out his chest with pride. "I am the greatest matchmaker ever!"

"You are insane and a bother. Next time leave me out of your plans." Kuaile pursed his lips. "Why'd you try so hard to win the challenges anyway if you had always planned for them to return to the Physical World?"

"I can't help it." A shrug. "My mother did say I was always too competitive."

Kuaile rolled his eyes. "Idiot."

Bill opened his mouth to retort, but then he pulled a sour-lemon face and clutched at his ears. "Curse you, Funky Dunky Toad-Monkey! Curse you forever!"

Kuaile just sighed and sipped his tea. "Maybe it's time for me to look for a new place to rent."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All the challenges featured are based on real games. The song is just something I made up, but imagine a mix between the 'Trololo' song, Navi's 'Hey, Listen' on repeat, and 'This is the Song That Doesn't End' and you'd be close enough. Poor Bill.
> 
> And here are the prompts:
> 
> Advocaat's Wish-List:
> 
> 1\. Drunk!Tara (Or Zuko)
> 
> 2\. Love Potion
> 
> 3\. Silliness
> 
> 4\. Ember Island shenanigans
> 
> 5\. A dragon-moose and a pitchfork (have at it!)
> 
> I ended up using Drunk!Tara, silliness, and a dragon-moose and a pitchfork. Hope you enjoyed!


End file.
